Today was going to be the first of a weekly food/baking post. But as I sat and watched the National Moment of Silence on TV, as I looked at the faces of those who died, as I looked at the face of that beautiful 9 yr. old girl, with the faces of my own daughters on the mantle next to the television, I knew that post wasn’t going to happen.
My youngest is 9. She was due on 9/11 like Christina Green, but was born on 9/17. I remember watching the 2nd tower fall and thinking there was no way I was going to let her be born on that day no matter what I had to do. I didn’t want the day of her birth to be marked by tragedy. I was afraid it would follow her. Ramblings of a hormonal pregnant woman.
I guess I must have crossed my legs fairly well because they stayed that way for another 6 days.
Her name means “God gives strength”. In the ugly days following 9/11, we looked for a name that would somehow help her. I know that’s ridiculous but as parents maybe we do everything we can no matter how irrational.
Despite her unplanned beginning, our lives would not be complete without her!
Our lives would not be complete without any of them!
I watched my beautiful girls this weekend and wondered where they would be safe. Christina Green wasn’t safe at a grocery store.
Would my youngest 2 be ok at the skating rink with our neighbor and her daughter? Would my oldest be ok going to her classmate’s house? There is no way to know but less reason to question now that they’re a bit older. Or so I thought.
They can cross the street by themselves, I’ve taught them how to do that. They know not to wander away in public places. They know not to talk to strangers or let them into our home. They don’t know how to protect themselves from a madman.
In the years since my diagnosis I’ve prepared myself to leave them – as much as it’s possible. I know they’re in good hands with SG. He loves them more than life itself. I’ve surrounded them with strong women and family who will help them get through it. In ways they don’t even notice, I’ve prepared them to lose me. To survive without me.
But who will help us if we lose one of them?